


(onetwothreefour) rightwrongwrongright (fourthreetwoone)

by SoloChaos



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gen, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2732762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloChaos/pseuds/SoloChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You're being ridiculous."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	(onetwothreefour) rightwrongwrongright (fourthreetwoone)

**Author's Note:**

> SO HELLO what Josh has is a somewhat amplified version of what I have. I have obsessive-compulsive tendencies; what he has is closer to obsessive-compulsive disorder.
> 
>  
> 
> This might not actually make sense. I'm planning on writing another one because this didn't come out the way I wanted it to. I want to do something that focuses more on the anxiety than the compulsions maybe? Like not being able to talk to people because you're wrapped up in all your weird thoughts and stuff? I'm not sure. 
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING for self-harm.

_One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, thr–_

"Why do you always look at your feet when you're walking?" Tyler says, and Josh nearly screams when he loses track of the numbers.

"I don't know," he mumbles. _One, two, four. Okay. Right. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four._

 

It's not always like this. Sometimes it's okay. Sometimes the itching in the back of his mind is weak enough for him to ignore it.

But sometimes he has to count every step he takes on the stairs, sometimes he cries if he steps on a crack on the sidewalk, sometimes he holds his breath until the point of painful when he drives past graveyards. It comes and it goes. For the most part it's gone, but it always comes back.

_He just wants everything to feel right._

 

"I will set my soul on fire, what have I become? I'm–"

Josh waits for the "sorry", but it never comes.

Tyler is saying something about their next song probably, but Josh isn't even registering anything at all until he realizes that Tyler's staring at him.

"Josh?" Tyler says, turning away from the microphone.

Belatedly, Josh realizes that he's standing up after dropping his drumsticks. He's running his palms over his face and through his hair in rapid, frenzied motions. This doesn't feel right.

"Josh?" Tyler says again, looking concerned. "What are you doing?"

"You didn't says 'sorry'," Josh says, and he barely recognizes his own voice.

"What?" Tyler says, looking bewildered.

"You ended at 'I'm'. That's not right. It's 'I'm sorry.'"

Tyler's concerned and bewildered expression turns to one of annoyance. "It's artistic, Josh. It's doesn't have to be just right."

Josh doesn't say anything, but he feels his lower lip start to tremble. "Please," he whispers, and he's fairly certain Tyler's only reading lips now. "Please, Tyler."

"Josh."

"Please."

"We have to get on with the show."

"I can't go on. You aren't done yet."

"You're being ridiculous."

_"Please."_

Tyler half-glares at him before turning back around. "Sorry," he says to the crowd, and Josh relaxes. That's enough. He feels right.

 

"This is kind of surreal," Tyler says as he looks around in Josh's apartment. "How do you keep everything so neat?" He pokes Josh's CD collection, and Josh barely swallows his wince.

"Habit, I guess," he mumbles. He's not _neat,_ exactly. He just likes feeling right. He wants to feel right.

 

"No, no, no," Tyler says as Josh plays the beat for what must be the millionth time. "Off the beat, remember? We said that part would be offbeat, kind of hectic."

"Right," Josh mumbles. "Right."

He tries again, but he can't bring himself to do what Tyler's asking of him.

"Why can't you do this?" Tyler asks, sounding exasperated, but also concerned. "You've been able to play everything I've asked you to. Even that thing I wrote as a joke because it's supposed to be impossible."

Josh shrugs. "I don't know," he says.

Tyler sighs, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "We'll just have you play on beat," he says with a sigh, looking disappointed.

Josh really, really wishes that he could help Tyler out, but he _can't._ He plays _one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four_ not _one, twothree, four, onetwo, four, one, two, threefourone._ No.

What Tyler wants from him makes him feel wrong, wrong down to his bones.

 

Josh is going to kill whoever designed this sidewalk.

His steps are either too big to fit two feet in each section or too small to fit one foot. This leads to him looking like an idiot who takes humongous steps, or an idiot who tiny steps.

"What are you doing?" Tyler asks when he finally catches up to Josh. Josh had opted to take the bigger steps, and ended up several paces before Tyler.

"I don't know," Josh says, shrugging.

"Could you stop?" Tyler asks. "It's getting kind of annoying."

Josh switches to small steps, and this time, Tyler ends up in front of him.

"What are you doing, Josh?" Tyler says, sounding vexed.

"I don't know," Josh whispers.

"Could you just walk normally?" Tyler says impatiently. "I'd like to eat sometime today."

Josh nearly cries as he walks _one, three, four, two, three, four, one, three, two, four._

 

When Josh hears the drums Tyler synthesized to play offbeat, he gets up and dashes to the bathroom to calm himself down so Tyler doesn't have to see him cry.

Calm. Calm down. It's just a song. Calm down.

His hands are shaking.

He pulls out his wallet and fumbles through the dollar bills (arranged in order according to value) before pulling out a small razor blade. Taking a deep breath, he draws a line across a fingertip on his left hand. Holding his finger to the opposite finger, the one on his right hand, he carefully cuts into his opposite finger, making them match. The cuts are small enough that they barely bleed, but they still sting.

He puts the razor back in his wallet, being mindful of his cuts. Putting his wallet back into his pocket, he starts to breathe normally. He's okay. He's okay. He's got one, two cuts on his fingers and he is balanced, he is right.

There's suddenly a knock on the door.

"Josh?" comes Tyler's soft voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Josh replies, and he's almost disturbed by how calm he sounds. "Yes, I'm okay."

"...okay," Tyler says. "Are you planning on coming out soon?"

"Oh. Yes," he says, standing up. "Yeah, I'm coming."

 

"This is ridiculous, Josh!" Tyler shouts. "Why on earth are you protesting this?"

"The self-titled album has fourteen songs," Josh says. "Regional At Best has fourteen songs. Vessel has twelve songs. Why would you even think about putting thirteen songs on this album?"

Tyler stares at him for one long moment. "Are you kidding me?"

Josh feels something inside him crumble. "But don't you get it?" he says desperately. "We can't have an odd number of songs. Let's put the one with all the B minor chords in it."

"You said that one didn't match the feel of the album."

"I take that back. _Please,_  Tyler."

"Josh, you're being ridiculous. Why does this even matter?"

"Because," Josh says, and can't think of an endgame.

Tyler sighs.

"Okay, thirteen songs," Josh says. "But you have to promise me that in the next album, we do another one with an odd number amount of songs."

"Why?" Tyler says with an exhale.

"So when we add all the songs up, they're even," Josh says. "I'm going to call my lawyer, okay? We need some kind of contract."

"Hold on, we're bringing lawyers into this?" Tyler says incredulously.

"Yes."

"Why on earth do we need our lawyers?"

"So I can be sure that we do the next album with an odd number of songs."

"Josh, you're being ridiculous."

"Please."

"Josh."

_"Please."_

Tyler sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We'll add the one with the B minor chords."

Tyler seems cold to him for the rest of the week, but Josh is too relieved about the number of songs to even care.

 

They're walking down the street when a couple of fans stop them. The fans ask for their autographs. Tyler signs the notebook that one of the fans pulled out of her bag, but when Josh signs it, something doesn't feel right.

So he signs it again.

And again.

And again.

(And again and again and again and again and again.)

"Josh. Josh. _Josh."_

Josh snaps out of his trance to see everyone staring at him.

"What are you doing?" Tyler asks.

Josh looks down at the notebook. He can't even tell how many times he signed it just by glancing, and he sits down on the sidewalk and begins to count.

"Josh," Tyler says, sounding concerned but also irritated. "Josh, what are you doing?"

Josh doesn't answer. He can't lose track of the numbers.

"Josh. _Josh."_

Thirty-two.

"Sign this," Josh says, standing back up and handing the notebook back to Tyler.

"I did sign this," Tyler says, looking confused.

"No. Thirty-one more times."

Tyler stares at him.

"Sign this thirty-one more times," Josh says, and he can feel himself start to panic.

"Why?"

"Because."

Tyler sighs. "No, Josh. These people probably have places to be. I'm not going to sign it thirty-one more times."

 _"Please,"_  Josh begs. He knows that he must be making himself look like an idiot, but he doesn't care. All he cares about it Tyler signing this thirty-one more times.

"Josh. Give them the notebook, and let's go."

"NO!" Josh shouts, making everyone jump. "NO! SIGN THIS! THIRTY-ONE! SIGN THIS THIRTY-ONE TIMES!"

The fans look uncomfortable and slightly scared, but Josh is too worked up to calm down now.

"Josh, Josh, listen to me," Tyler is saying, but Josh isn't listening. This is wrong, this is wrong, _why doesn't Tyler understand?_

He's breathing hard, in and out. He tries to remember the breathing exercises he was taught when he was little and everything was wrong, but he can't remember them. He can feel tears starting to roll down his cheeks, but he doesn't even care.

"Josh, _Josh!"_

Josh finally snaps back to reality when he feels Tyler clutching his wrists.

"Calm down," Tyler is saying softly, gripping Josh's wrists like his life depends on it. "Calm down, Josh. Breathe."

Josh tries to breathe in the same intervals as Tyler is, but for every breath that Tyler takes, Josh takes five.

"Shh, shh," Tyler says gently, and finally Josh can breathe normally. He vaguely registers that his neck is stinging, and that he probably has little bits of skin underneath his fingernails. It's not the first time.

"Will you sign the notebook?" Josh asks.

"No, Josh," Tyler says quietly. "They left. They took the notebook."

Josh is suddenly pulling out of Tyler's grip and dashing back to his apartment before he can really think about it. He can't be here anymore. This is wrong.

 

He hides.

He ignores Tyler's texts because this is Tyler's fault, Tyler's the reason that Josh has five deep cuts on both of his legs. Tyler's the reason Josh bothered to count all the chips in the bag, bothered to drive out and buy more because he can't eat thirty-seven chips. He can eat thirty-six or thirty-eight. Those are numbers that feel right.

The cuts on his fingertips still sting from sorting through the salty chips, but he finally winds up with 386 chips arranged on the table.

They look so nice that he can't even eat them.

Anyways.

Tyler.

Tyler's the reason that Josh shaved off all his hair because he finally noticed that his hair isn't symmetrical. Tyler's the reason Josh has to take two showers every day instead of just one. Tyler's the reason that Josh installed useless doorknobs on every door, effectively confusing him every time he goes to open a door. Tyler's the reason Josh spent an entire week painting the walls completely white and throwing away every single picture on the wall (he can never make them _perfectly_ straight he can never make them feel _right_ so they have to go). Tyler's the reason all Josh can wear is solid color clothing. Tyler's the reason Josh can barely look at his phone (why aren't there two front facing cameras it looks so wrong) and the reason why he gets two more cuts whenever he needs to use it.

Tyler.

This is all Tyler's fault.

 

It goes away like it always does but it will come back like it always does.

Tyler asks questions that he half-answers but Tyler stops pressing and life cycles on. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think Tyler's OOC in this scenario I'm sorry.


End file.
